The Stupid, The Proud
by ShinigamiLovesApples
Summary: Voldemort never came to kill the Potters, however James and Lily sent Harry to live with the Dursleys to protect him from fanatical supporters of Voldemort. Now, at age 18, he gets summoned back to them. Harry, however, is not quite the boy they imagined him to be, and with no knowledge of the magical world. RL/SS, HP/?, JP/LP, LM/NM
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the rest of the books, I only use the characters from the books. Whatever I write here is solely mine.**

 **Note: Voldemort still lives in this story, however, he is no raging lunatic. He is a politician, and he will play quite a big role in this story.**

 **Pairings: I am unsure about pairings, but there will be some RL/SS, so be prepared for that. As for Harry, well, he will end up with a guy if anything, maybe Riddle, but it depends on where the story takes me.**

 **Also! English is not my native language, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes, and also for the fact that I by no means am good at British English. Do bear with me!**

Harry had had a great night. It was only around 8pm, but he was already absolutely hammered. He had been drinking tequila, vodka and beer without a stop. He was trying desperately to drink away the past few days, where he had gotten nothing but beatings for being out of line and snapping back at uncle Vernon. He knew it was his own fault, but he could not hold back his angry retorts whenever Vernon started accusing him of something stupid around the house.

So, he had worn his favorite ripped jeans, a Bring Me The Horizon band tee so that his tattoos were visible, see-through plugs and a pair of converse. He felt great and the alcohol was only getting him higher. But not higher than the joint he was sharing with his best mate, Damien, in the bathroom. They'd smoke and then snog a little, smoke, snog, smoke, snog.

Really, the night could not get any better, especially if he ended up in bed with Damien again. They were nothing but close friends, but they enjoyed flirting and exploring with each other.

However, since everything seemed so great, Harry should have known something would happen to change it all. That was his luck, or lack thereof. He did not think that the pull he could feel in his body was anything of concern though, he merely thought the joint was taking him new places.

That was proven to be untrue, as he, moments after the feeling appeared in his stomach, felt as if he was sucked through a way too small tube until he was discarded with a loud 'thump' on a hard and cold floor. A groan escaped his lips, and his drunken mind was trying very hard to keep up with what was happening.

"Bloody hell," Harry said with a raspy voice, from drinking the hard liquor and smoking. He rolled from his stomach onto his back, and realized he was pretty much surrounded by strangers making him feel quite claustrophobic.

"As elegant and eloquent as one would expect from the spawn of a Marauder," a man scoffed, his tone dry but Harry noticed a small smile threatening to overtake his lips. His comment seemed to make everybody snap out of their stupor, as everybody but a woman and a man took a step back.

The woman held a hand down to Harry, but Harry merely stared, not quite convinced yet that this was not an illusion created by his drunken and high mind. He expected any moment to blink and be back in the bathroom of Damien's house, with a joint in his hands and lips on his own.

Ignoring the hand completely, he clumsily got up on his own, and swayed when the alcohol seemed to hit him all over again.

"Are you drunk?" a man, who had taken a step back said, after sniffing the air. He looked rather ragged, yet there was something about him that made him seem rather feral and dangerous. The rest seemed to really look at him, and laughter soon followed from some of them.

"Of course your child would be the one to get into drinking," a blonde-haired, primp and proper man said, looking at a man Harry thought looked uncannily like himself, and that was when the words the blonde had said sunk in.

"And of course also be the one to look absolutely unbecoming of his heritage," a woman with half blonde and half black hair added. Everybody seemed to be smiling or snickering, as Harry stood completely lost and way too drunk to really gather his mind.

Him, and the man he looked like a copy of along with an auburn-haired woman were the only ones who seemed to be completely still.

 _Your child?_ Harry thought. Did those words really mean what he thought they did?

"Harry? Are you okay?" the woman asked, taking a step towards him. As per instinct, Harry took a step backwards, keeping his distance. Silence fell over the room like an oppressive blanket.

How had he even ended up here? Oh, bloody hell, had he done some of his freakishness again? Uncle Vernon would not be happy when he finally got back home again.

"How do you know me? How did I even get here? I swear to God I did not do some fucked up shit again, I can usually control that," Harry said, or more like mumbled, but everybody heard him.

"You… you don't know who we are?" the woman asked, pointing to herself and his lookalike. Well, Harry did not know per say, but judging from their conversation, he could only assume that they were in fact his parents.

"Judging from the conversation and the fact I look way too much like him for it to be a coincidence, I'd say you're my parents," Harry said, waving his hand at his lookalike.

"We are," the woman said, with a smile. She was obviously expecting some reaction, heck, Harry was pretty sure everybody in the room was expecting him to do something ridiculous like tearing up or throw himself into their arms.

Harry was also pretty sure he would have done that when he was 11 and his aunt and uncle were at their worst with their regard to him. But Christ, he would probably have thrown himself at anybody saying they would get him away from there back then.

Fact was, however, that Harry was no longer a little pushover of a child, and he knew there was reason behind every action. If Harry burned the food he made Vernon would burn his hand, to make sure he learned not to burn it. If he broke a glass or a plate, he would break a finger on Harry.

So really, there was reason behind every punishment he had ever received. The same went for kindness. Even from people he thought would want nothing in return.

Even from people who were his parents. Harry narrowed his eyes at them, and could not help but wonder. What exactly did they want? Why had they… summoned him here?

His silence and unwavering expression seemed to wipe away the smile from his mother's face, as she unsurely grabbed the edge of her… wait, what was she wearing? It was then Harry seemed to notice that where he was, was not exactly a normal place.

The room he was in reminded him of the paintings they had seen in history class from the renaissance. Everything looked old and expensive, and that was also when Harry really realized what they all were wearing. It looked medieval, what with the women wearing long dresses, with puffed sleeves and lace everywhere. The men were wearing something which looked almost like a suit, yet the blazer they should be wearing, was something more like a cape of some sort.

All in all, it confused Harry very much. Were they in a cult? Cut off from the rest of the world? Where the hell was he?

It was also then that the weed he'd been smoking really seemed to hit him, and he wobbled a bit before he could stand straight again. And then Harry did the last thing he had expected, and probably also the last thing the people around him expected.

He laughed.

"Prongs, I think your son broke," a man stage whispered to Harry's father, which only made Harry laugh even more.

"Bloody hell, where am I even?" Harry asked, gasping for air, as his laughter died down, still rather fascinated by how everything looked like it was from another era.

"Right now, you are in our manor, the Malfoy manor, which is placed in Wiltshire," the man with the long blonde hair said, raising an eyebrow as if daring Harry to try and insult the place.

"Wait, Wiltshire? How do I get home from here? Oh Christ, Damien must be so confused, I just popped away out of thin air," Harry mumbled to himself, then suddenly remembering he also had not told Petunia about leaving for the night. If he came home too late, she would know he had been drinking and he would have to do double the number of chores.

This revelation made Harry gasp, and mumble her name.

"Tuney? Did she not get our letter? Surely, she must know that you will be gone for the evening, we sent an Owl to her. She did not answer, but she never was much for magic and our way of doing things," Harry's mother said, making Harry's eyes widen.

 _Magic? Our way of doing things?_ Did they mean to tell him that the freakishness Petunia and Vernon detested so much about him was, in fact, magic?

"She did not tell you," Harry's mother gasped, upon seeing his confused and bewildered expression. This made the other people in the room tense, and Harry was pretty sure he heard the man who had smelled the alcohol on him growl lowly.

"I told you, you should not have left him in her care. She was always jealous, and the whale of a man she has is a despicable muggle," the man who was the first to say anything upon his arrival sneered, anger flashing in his eyes.

"I know, Sev. I just thought... we are family, you know? Oh, Harry, I am so sorry. You should have known about our world, you must be so confused," his mother said, and Harry could tell she was sincere.

Yet Harry was still stuck on the fact that they were telling him magic was real. It could not be real, that was what he had heard his whole life.

 _"_ _You're a freak, you are, doing your freaky things. There is no such thing as magic, you hear, boy? This is all unnatural, you're a freak by nature. This is the reason why your parents left you behind; they couldn't care for the monster they created, and that is the truth, even if Petunia will have you believe something different," Vernon roared._

 _Harry was lying on the ground, and Vernon had his foot on Harry's hand, slowly letting his weight descent upon it, making Harry bite his lip not to cry out in pain._

 _"_ _Say it, Freak! Repeat after me, magic is not real."_

 _Harry gasped, as he both heard and felt bones crack in his hand. It was all his fault, all of it. He should not have used his freakishness to stop the plate from falling to the ground._

 _"_ _Say it!"_

"Magic is not real," Harry choked out, grabbing his hand which had been under his uncle's foot so long ago.

"It is, Harry, no matter what Petunia said, I know she probably gave you vague excuses about the things you could do. She does not wield magic herself, and I fear it made her quite bitter," his mother said, once again taking a step towards him.

Harry would have none of it. No. This was not happening. He needed to get back to Damien, make sure he knew he was fine. Smoke some more weed, talk Damien into a shag.

He took a quick step backwards, not realizing that a blonde guy around his age was standing almost right behind him, making Harry jump to the side.

Harry shook his head, trying to calm down, but he knew he needed to get out of there. Maybe… Petunia and Vernon would not know he had used his freakishness, who was there to tell them?

"It's unnatural," Harry ground out, and with those words, he wished himself back into Damien's bathroom, and back he came. He landed in the bathtub, and was about to fall, if it was not for Damien grabbing him.

"Bloody hell, mate, where did you go?" Damien said, worried. Harry merely shook his head, not ready to talk about it just yet, he was still trying to process it.

He was so happy he had taken the initiative to show Damien his freakishness those years ago when they first met, else he would have had nowhere to go. He could not face Petunia or Vernon right now, not with this new information making his head swim.

"Come, you look like you need something more to drink, and then we'll roll a new joint, aye?" Damien asked, though he did not give Harry time to answer. He merely grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the bathroom.

The party was still ongoing, and people seemed to have gotten much more drunk since Harry disappeared. People were grinding against each other left and right, some were playing beer pong, and Harry became oddly aware that, to other people, they had only been on the toilet.

They did not know his entire world had just been turned upside down, and he wished he could join them in theirs.

"Aight, snap out of it, you need to forget whatever the hell happened, so… how does shots sound?" Damien said, with his signature grin. Harry found himself smiling and nodding.

Oh, how he needed to forget, even if it was just temporarily.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'd like to thank everybody who has decided to follow this story already! And also thank you for the reviews, I always like getting some comments on my work.**

 **I have absolutely no idea where I was going with this chapter, but I do hope that it pleases you, and does not disappoint in any way.**

 **I do have a question, though. Who would you like to see me pair Harry with? I know I have yet to introduce many characters, but it would be nice to know what thoughts you have so far. I shall probably ask this question again later (:**

 **Enjoy!**

"Wait, so your parents did some weird shit, which is magic, and your aunt and uncle never told you about it, and you did some magic too to get back here, before they could tell you why they summoned you?" Damien asked, recapping what Harry had told him.

They were lying naked on Damien's bed, in the aftermath of a quite great shag, smoking another joint.

"More or less," Harry said, followed by a sigh. It sounded so surreal even in Harry's ears, and the more he thought about it, the more he was sure he had been tripping hard.

"You know, I was always sure there was more to you so-called freakishness," Damien said, turning so he was lying on his side, looking at Harry. Harry followed his example, and lifted an eyebrow at him, wanting him to elaborate.

"Even you should know that your aunt and uncle are the biggest bigots there are, I don't get how you haven't been removed from them. I know what they've done and what they've said, but Harry. When the rest isn't true or right, why should it be true what they say about magic?" Damien explained.

It made sense, when Damien put it like that. It really did. Yet his brain kept working against him, trying to deny it.

Harry knew he was broken, he knew he thought differently than others, and what he knew to be a reality, his reality, others would say that was not how it should be.

But if that was not how it was supposed to be, what did that make of his life?

If it was not how he was supposed to be treated, then why had he been treated so?

There was reason behind it, Harry had thought about it for long. There was a reason behind it, because there simply _had_ to be.

"Harry," Damien whispered, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. Damien lifted his hand and brought it through Harry's hair, placing a small kiss on his lips.

"You can go be with people who care about you now. You don't need to think about the Dursleys anymore, you can throw all of that away," he said, and Harry relaxed. When he was lying there, Damien's hand carding through his hair, he could be calm and think about it logically.

"Now, let's sleep, and then you can go home to those disgusting people and hope your parents can come and get you there," Damien said, quitting their joint, and drawing Harry into his arms.

…

Harry was already regretting going home, long before he was even there. And now when he was standing in front of the door, he really wished he had not used his freakishness to get away from his parents.

He had no idea what was waiting for him beyond the door, but after standing there for quite some time, it appeared he had not been unnoticed.

The door opened, revealing a livid Petunia, who grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, letting go of his arm as though he had burned her. Flustered at the abnormal amount of hostility in her eyes, Harry was shortly speechless.

"Uh… I came home?" he said, uncertainly. Surely, he had not done something to warrant such hatred, though he did know his mere presence was disgusting and a bother for them, his aunt was usually much less hostile.

"Did your _parents_ not come and get you yesterday?" Petunia inquired, looking towards the kitchen fleetingly. Oh, so Vernon was home.

"So, they did notify you of that, huh?" Harry sneered back, not quite surprised that Petunia kept information from him, but that she would keep information about him being able to get away from the from him… now that confused him.

"Don't you look at me like that, it's not my fault she had to send a bloody owl, attracting the interest of our neighbors," Petunia sneered back at him, and Harry scoffed. The bloody neighbors, it was always about looking as normal and prestige as possible at all hours of the day.

"I did get summoned or whatever the hell it was they did, but I popped back to Damien," Harry explained, knowing he would not get anywhere unless he actually answered her question. His aunt wrinkled her nose at the mention of Damien.

"You were at that fag's house again? I'm telling you, you're freaky beyond measure. Now, why would you 'pop back' to him, when you could stay with my oh so perfect sister?" Petunia asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I haven't heard from them for 18 years and you expect me to get there without a say and just stay there?" Harry asked, not flinching when she slapped him across the face.

 _He deserved that one._

"Do not take that tone with me, boy. If you're going to be here until they get you again, at least make yourself useful and make some breakfast," and with those words said, Petunia stalked away from him, probably going to the living room.

Harry closed his eyes, and let the burning in his cheek subside a little, before he went to the kitchen. And assuredly, Harry could see Vernon sitting on the couch with some biscuits, staring at the TV. Petunia had just sat down beside him, looking like she had just sucked on a lemon.

As soon as Vernon saw him, Harry saw the anger flashing in his eyes. The way his face reddened, Harry knew he was about to start yelling, but that did not mean Harry could not just get started on making some food.

So, while Vernon was loading, Harry started to find pans, eggs, bacon and toast. By the time he had cracked the first egg on the pan, Vernon apparently could not keep quiet anymore.

"What do you think you're doing here, boy?" he bellowed, with a voice which would have made him flinch 5 years ago. Now, however, he merely ignored him. Nothing good ever came from answering Vernon, no matter what he said, it always warranted a beating.

The doorbell rang, and Harry heard Petunia get up from the couch to go open it. He also heard Vernon get up from the couch, and stomp over to him at the stove.

"I asked you a question, boy, what are you doing here? Did your parents not want you either?" he yelled, but Harry still calmly cracked some more eggs and started frying the bacon. He knew he didn't make it any better for himself, yet he also knew that answering was answered with an instant hit to the head.

Now he could somewhat control it, he knew when the fist was coming. And it was raised now, just about to swing down and hit him.

"Vernon!" Petunia snapped, making the fist stop midair, and Harry snapped his head up to see what had made her interrupt. Right behind Petunia, his parents were standing, along with two dark-haired men and the feral man.

Harry had gotten eye contact with his mother, who was looking worriedly at him, but he quickly broke it to look at Vernon, who was still staring at him. The hatred burning in his eyes, but his fist lowering.

"Just what were you about to do?" the dark-haired man with a slightly crooked nose sneered, and with those words, Harry saw Vernon wipe away all hatred and replaced it with open friendliness.

Harry wanted to puke.

"Nothing, nothing at all. Just a minor disagreement. Now, would you like some eggs and bacon?" Vernon asked, making Harry scoff, earning him an icy glare from Petunia. He quickly schooled his expressions, and went back to the eggs and bacon.

"Right, we can discuss custody meanwhile then," his mother answered, and he heard them all move towards the dining table.

"Sure, just allow me to get our son down, I do believe he has missed Harry. They have not seen each other for quite a while," Vernon said, and Harry knew. He knew he only wanted Dudley down so he could torment him.

Perhaps so he could make Harry mess up, so that his parents would change their mind about him. Who would want a son who could not make a proper breakfast? He was just a waste of space then.

Harry did not hear Vernon call for Dudley nor did he hear Dudley come down, but he felt the kick to his shin, almost making him cry out. He knew he should not, and it was only his instincts that made him clamp his jaw shut and keep him from doing so.

He knew they all could see them if they just turned their heads, so he did not want to draw attention to him. He was strong, he could handle Dudley.

"Are those your parents, freak? They look just as mental as you are," Dudley snickered in his ear, as he walked up behind Harry, standing way too close for Harry to feel calm.

"I'll make sure they know how big a failure you are, so they don't take you with them. Would be unfair for them, and think about all the fun you can have here," he continued. Harry stiffened, but did not answer him.

Instead, he grabbed plates where he placed the eggs and bacon, and found a small basket where he put bread in. He went to the fridge and found butter and juice, placing it all on the kitchen table, ready to be brought over to the dining table.

As Harry went and turned off the heat on the oven, Dudley gave Harry another kick to the shin, and this time a small hiss escaped Harry's lips. As Harry removed the pans from the heat, he got a sick satisfaction out of imagining placing Dudley's hand on it.

How his fat would sizzle and that smug voice would form the sweetest screams of pain.

As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Dudley grabbed his hand, sneering down at Harry when he looked up at him with wide eyes. Was he going to… here? Now? So blatantly in the open?

Apparently so, and Harry knew he was not stronger than Dudley, he was _not strong enough._ He never was, never. Though he was sure about that his body still instinctively struggled against the grip Dudley had on his hand.

It did not hurt as much as he thought it would. He remembered it to be much worse, but that may be because it had been quite some time since he had last had his hand burned. He quickly learned how to work his way around a kitchen without ruining the food.

Though the heat was turned off, it was still quite hot despite everything, and the longer Dudley kept it there, the more it hurt. Harry bit his lip to be quiet.

 _"_ _First rule here, boy, is that you keep quiet. I don't care what happens, you keep your bloody mouth shut, you hear me?" Vernon roared._

 _Harry often wondered whether Vernon was part beast, with how much he roared. Not a lion, no, that was too majestic. Maybe a bear, a big fat bear. Growling, territorial, either unaware or too aware of its own strength._

 _A hit from the belt, made Harry startle out of his thoughts, accidentally letting out a small cry. That earned him another hit, which he was more prepared for, and therefore able to keep quiet for._

 _"_ _What did I just say, boy? Freaks have no say in this house. They are not to be heard, and if I had it my way you wouldn't be seen ever again either!"_

 _Another hit, and another and another and another and-_

 _Harry was so exhausted, but he knew he had to stay upright, as every hit came raining down on his back. No sounds, no flinching, no showing weakness._

"Is the food almost done?" Petunia quipped, making Dudley let go of Harry's now red and blistering hand. Having no time to put it under cold water and no way to really cover it up, Harry just casually put his hand by his side, as he turned around.

"Yes," he answered curtly, knowing she only wanted direct answers. No stupid excuses or sniveling, just the bare minimum.

Stepping away from Dudley, Harry grabbed the plates with eggs and bacon on in one hand, and the basket with bread in the other. He could do this. The burning in his hand worsened as he used his hand, but he could not show that.

 _Do not be a baby, do not look like someone who cannot take care of themselves, you can do this._

Harry placed the food on the table, making sure he did not draw much attention to his hands, and went for the juice and butter, placing that too.

Of course, Harry knew Dudley was going to mess with him. He did not know, however, why he had not tried harder to prevent it. His parents were right there, like bloody hell, was there a time he should not mess up and be the most representable he could be, it would be in that exact moment.

It was when he was standing beside Vernon, of course, when he was about to set down the glasses on the table. He had not seen Dudley maneuvering himself around the table, and as he passed by Harry, he gave him a small push.

Glasses fell to the floor. Harry felt as though time stopped, as he watched them shatter, all chatter at the table stopping. It started a chain reaction.

Vernon apparently could not keep up his stupid farce anymore. Before anybody else could react, he had sprung up from his chair, as though he was 50 kilos lighter, struck Harry across the face and pushed him onto the floor, so that he fell upon the glass shards.

The thump of Harry landing there, seemed to wake up the rest of the people around the table. The dark-haired man with a crooked nose, Sev or whatever his mother had called him, took out a stick from his clothes and whatever he did, made Vernon freeze.

The man Harry thought had a feral air around him looked downright scary. His eyes had a yellowish amber glint in them, and he was very sure he could hear him growl as he clenched his fists.

Dudley was pushed out of the way of his father and the other dark-haired man, as they came over to Harry, while his mother turned towards Petunia.

"You vile muggle! Is this how you treat my son?" his mother screamed, and Harry could not help but flinch at the volume and anger in her voice. But this time it was not directed towards him, but towards Petunia.

Harry did not understand what had just happened. His father made to grab Harry by his arm, but he recoiled, making the shards beneath him embed themselves deeper into him. He locked his eyes upon the floor, taking deep breathes.

His father and the dark-haired man, this one had curls Harry noticed, had seemed to understand that he did not wish help, for they did not try to grab him as he slowly stood up on his own, sighing when he looked at the mess he had made.

And then he made eye contact with his father. Whatever he saw, it made him clench his jaw, and look at Vernon with hatred. Now, hatred Harry understood. Anger, too. What he could not understand in this messy situation, was how no one but Vernon had seemed fit to actually scold _him_ in any way for creating it.

"Moony, Padfoot, Severus… Take Harry home, will you? We'll just have a talk with the Dursleys," his father said, making Harry blanch. _Take him home?_

He knew he deserved any punishment he would get, and he was quite glad if they would wait with giving him one for when he was away from the Dursleys. The pleasure they took in his pain always angered him.

Before Harry could think any further, the curly dark-haired man stepped closer to him and gently took his arm, before he was swallowed in the feeling of being squeezed through a tube once again.

When they landed, Harry was quite glad the man was quick to react when he was about to fall. Really, Harry did not want to embarrass himself any further than he already had. That did not mean he wanted the man to touch him any longer than necessary, and he was therefore quick to take a step away from him.

"Harry, would you please follow me so I can see to your injuries?" the man, Sev or Severus or whatever asked Harry, making him look up from the floor to look him in the eyes.

 _Please?_ Was he _asking_ Harry? He probably did not really have a choice in the end, but the fact he had made it possible for him to give an answer… what did he want? Confused, Harry gave him a single nod.

Seemingly pleased with that answer, Severus gave a glare to the other two men, and started walking away. Warily, Harry followed him. The hallway they walked down seemed endless, taking turns Harry knew he would not remember.

They finally came to a stop, and Harry followed the man into a spacious room. It was very cozy, with very warm and earthy colors. It almost looked like an office, if it had not been for the added couch, fireplace and rows of books everywhere.

"Go sit down on the couch," the man said, and Harry did as told. The man, Severus, sat down next to him, and without questions, started looking over his arms. They had taken the fall for him, and had therefore also been the ones to get hurt the most.

Harry was quite amazed at how gentle the man's hands were, despite his gruff and direct attitude. And also at how easy it was for the man to heal him. He merely removed the shards of glass still in his skin, and said something in what Harry was sure was Latin, and gone were the wounds.

What Harry was not prepared for, was the man casually taking his burned hand and applying some ointment on it. He dared look up at his face, but he only quirked his eyebrow, not saying anything.

"I did not take you away from those two idiots, for me to question you. I somewhat understand what you've gone through, and I know questions are not what you'd like right now," the man explained, and then silence fell upon them.

 _What a day,_ Harry thought. Whatever he had expected to happen at the Dursleys, this was definitely not it.

The punishments and taunting, yes. But the, dare he say it, _worried_ and _protective_ nature they had all had about him puzzled him.

What a day indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, it seems like it took me quite a while to update again.**

 **It's mainly because I've had this weird feeling in my chest for like one and a half month now, and also had some sort of attack a little while back, but the doctors have said nothing is wrong with my heart. Not that it eases my worries because I still feel it, and some have pointed out it may be anxiety or stress which is getting to me. I have an appointment with a cardiologist the 20th this month though, so maybe he can ease my worries.**

 **Ugh, but I don't even know... sorry for the rant.**

 **I am also not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I hope it is okay.**

 **Thank you for the reviews! They mean a lot to me 3**

 **I shall also keep count on who people want Harry to end up with, and so far it looks like this:**

 **Tom Riddle: 1**

 **Damien 1 (maybe 2, my French isn't that good... mainly because I've never had French. Can Latin count? Meh, I'm Danish, please excuse me)**

Harry had no idea how long they sat there, in complete silence, but he actually found himself liking it.

And by default, also somewhat accepting the man. His presence was calming, and he had yet to ask Harry any questions at all. The man had said he somewhat understood what Harry had gone through, but… did it entitle what Harry thought it did?

He could not see this man bow down before anybody, or let them get to him. He seemed too strong and proud. There was an air around him, something which not only calmed Harry but also told him he could feel safe around him. He knew how to defend himself.

"I do not know how much longer we will be able to just sit here, so I think I should introduce myself. My name is Severus Snape, and I am a friend of your mother and… father," he said, but Harry did notice how he seemed to pause before also declaring him a friend of his father.

He did not dwell on it though. The man had not asked him any questions, so he would show him the same respect.

"I suppose you know who I am, sir," Harry said, earning him a snort and a nod from Severus.

"There is, however, no need to call me sir. That makes me sound too old and much posher than I would ever be," he said, and Harry nodded.

As Severus had predicted, they did not sit there alone for long before the door opened. The two other men who had gone with him here came in, both looking quite relieved when they saw him. They sat down in chairs that seemed to pop out of thin air – oh how Harry was going to love learning about this magic.

Harry was very pleased that none of them seemed to want to ask him any questions, they were all just dwelling in the silence.

Until Harry remembered that his… parents had stayed behind at the Dursleys. What would they do there? Would they ask questions about him? What if they found out just how useless he was? What if… what if they would come back and throw him away too?

 _No_ , Harry told himself. _They seemed to care about you, they even got angry, but not at you._

Would that stop them from hurting him though? The Dursleys also started out being somewhat kind towards him, until he started to show bursts of his freakiness out of nowhere. From then on, it all went downhill.

But his parents and everyone else here were just like him, so what would they start punishing him for?

Except for the times he would deserve it of course. _Gratitude and politeness are things you should always show, even if you do not really feel so, especially a freak like you,_ as aunt Petunia had put it.

Did they have different customs here though? Would he have to get new rules? Would they punish him differently here? The snippet of magic he had seen here gave Harry many different ideas of punishments he was sure magic could do.

But once again, Harry thought of how angry his parents had seemed at the aspect of Harry getting hurt, but maybe it was because it was done by others?

Or maybe it was actual concern for his well-being?

It was all so terribly confusing, and he did not dare voice his questions. He had no way of understanding this situation though, or what they were thinking or feeling. Harry had absolutely nothing to compare it to.

A thought which both made him feel terribly scared but also stupid. How could he not know what compassion for another human being looked like? And then again, should he?

Damien was no longer by his side to reason with him, and though Severus seemed like a person who could answer him honestly, he did not want to ask him anything with the other two persons there.

"While we wait for your parents to return, would you like something to eat?" Severus asked, and, had he not said 'your parents', Harry would have been inclined to think the question was meant for the others and not for him.

Severus was also looking at him, though, and Harry realized he had just been staring at the man. He quickly diverted his gaze, how rude of him. A man shows him kindness and he shows nothing but disrespect.

That he had not received a hit yet was surprising, or maybe they were just holding back. Or they would tell his parents and they would take care of it.

Right, answer, he had to answer.

"No thank you," Harry answered.

 _"'_ _No thank you?' How dare you talk like that to me, you worthless freak! You show me the respect I deserve for letting you stay in this house by forgetting your manners?" Vernon yelled._

 _Harry flinched, locking his gaze on the floor, biting his bottom lip. Another slip up, and then in front of potential business partners. He was stupid, so stupid. He deserved this, Vernon should already have him bleeding in his room for this._

 _"_ _What do you call me?" Vernon asked, as he grabbed Harry by his chin and forced him to look into his eyes. His grip was tight, hurting. He deserved it, it was his own fault._

 _"_ _Sir," Harry said, but his voice was nothing more than a whisper. The grip tightened, and he felt as if his jaw was breaking._

 _"_ _Louder! Did I not teach you anything? Always answer loud and clear, but no more words than necessary, your voice should not be heard in this house unless you are asked something or given permission. Now, repeat your answer," Vernon snarled._

 _Hatred, so much hatred in his eyes. Raw anger. Why was family so sacred when this was all it was?_

Only the fact Severus had asked him not to call him 'sir', made him bite his tongue and not add it to his answer.

"Very well then, I suppose we could all use a cup of tea then," Severus said, and, before Harry could insist he did not need anything, Severus had snapped his fingers and an odd creature popped into existence.

It was small, had floppy ears, big eyes and was dressed in a suit which seemed to be made out of towels or something alike.

Before Severus could say anything, the creature spotted Harry, and, if possible, its eyes grew even bigger, before it started jumping in place with its hands clasped together.

"Mister Harry Potter sir be home again! Oh, Twinkle be delighted to serve mister Harry Potter sir, what can Twinkle be doings?" the creature said. Its ears were flopping around, and really, Harry had no idea why he found it quite endearing.

"We would like to get four cups of tea," Severus said, and it took no more than a minute before the creature had disappeared and reappeared with a cup of tea for each of them.

Harry was the last to get his, and he could not help but notice the small tremble in the creature's fingers as it held it forward for him to take.

"Thank you, Twinkle," Harry said as he took it. The creature squeaked and disappeared, leaving Harry quite baffled.

"You will never be rid of her now, I am afraid. She is a house elf, they are quite common in wizarding homes. They take care of everything around the house, and no, it is not slavery. They quite enjoy it, and their magic is dependent on the bond they have with their masters," Severus explained, without Harry having to ask anything.

After that, they all simply enjoyed their tea in silence.

…

Once again time seemed to simply disappear, until the silence was broken by the door opening once again.

His parents stepped inside, both looking quite satisfied with themselves. Normally, Harry feared satisfaction. It often meant some new form of torment for him.

However, he quite liked the rather joyous expressions his parents seemed to bare. He could hardly remember the look of pure anger they had had at the Dursleys.

"Harry, dear, we are so sorry. I had not imagined my sister would ever enforce such hatred in her raising of you, had we known we would have never placed you there," his mother said, as both her and his father came to stand by the couch.

Why had they even felt the need to place him somewhere else? Had they not wanted to deal with him when he was young? Was he easier to have around now? Had they had any real reason for sending him away?

Left in a house where he might as well could have been dead.

Not knowing what to say, what he could say or what he actually wanted to say, Harry merely nodded. His unenthusiastic way of answering did not register as a sign that he did not wish to talk about it, apparently, as they both instantly went to crouch in front of him on the floor.

"Are you okay now? I suppose Severus healed you, but do you have any other injuries we need to know about?" his father asked, making Harry fidget.

Why did they wish to know about his injuries? Would they also want to heal them, or would they simply find pleasure in tormenting him about those? Make fun of him?

A stupid son who could not protect himself. Such a failure, he knew oh he knew.

"I think what Harry needs right now might be something more alike a shower and a bed, rather than an interrogation," Severus said, when Harry had yet to answer. Surprised, Harry looked at the man.

He was continuously surprised of how easily the man seemed to pick up on his mood, as if though he could read him. Or maybe he just knew what to look for, or he had been in the same position himself.

No matter what, Harry was thankful.

A look at his father told him that he did not agree, but he clenched his jaw shut and said nothing, as his mother smiled and nodded.

"That may be a good idea, it must have been a frantic day for you. Do you want one of us to show you to your rooms, or do you wish for Twinkle to do so?" his mother asked, and without thinking about it Harry's gaze fell upon Severus.

A smile played on his mother's lips, his father seemed rather irritated, the man he was looking at looked quite surprised though. Not that his expression told Harry much, but he did spot the small widening of his eyes, followed by a small tug of the corner of his lips.

"I can walk you there, it will coincide quite nicely with my explanation of how and when you shall use this salve," the man said, as he stood up.

Harry followed suit and, after a quick look at the others in the room, Harry followed him out of the room.

"The salve I shall give you once we reach your rooms, is one that needs to be applied daily, when you wake up and before you go to bed. It should take no more than three days for it to heal," Severus said, as they fell into a nice stride next to each other.

The silence Harry had come to enjoy fell upon them again, until after what felt like hundreds of twists and turns, Severus stopped in front of a door.

When Harry made no move to open it, Severus did, nodding his head when Harry looked at him as if asking for permission to enter.

When Harry stepped inside the room, he could not help but be amazed. Was this to be his room? It was big, at least double the size of the room Dudley had, and everything in it looked at lot more expensive, though it had none of the modern technology Dudley had so much of.

The walls were a deep blue, which reminded Harry of the ocean – not that he had ever seen it himself, but he had seen pictures and sometimes he had been able to sneak a look at the television and seen glimpses of it.

And really, it seemed much more like a living room, library mixed with a normal room. There was a giant bed, a big closet, a fireplace with a plush rug and a couch in front of it, a desk and loads of books.

"There should be some clothes in the closet for you, but I am sure we will soon go shopping for you. I am sure Narcissa and Lily are dying to go, actually, perhaps Draco will even insist on joining," Severus said, and Harry caught the sound of mirth in his voice.

"I am sure it will be a day I will look forward to very much," Harry mumbled, but Severus heard, and a low chuckle escaped his lips.

"I am sure. Now, I wish I knew what to tell you to make you feel more at home, but alas I do not know what would be appropriate. Just know that Twinkle can bring you to my quarters at any time if you have any injuries you would like to be healed, or wish for someone sensible to talk to. Whatever you say will stay between us, unless you wish for it to be shared," Severus said.

It hit Harry how those words must have taken a lot for the man to say, when he noticed how stiff and uncomfortable he looked. As if though he detested having to lower himself to the level of feelings, and really, Harry understood him.

As it was, he had no idea how to answer that.

It seemed like such a foreign thing to say to him. That the man had given him permission to bother him at any time of the day was so unreal, and Harry was sure he would wake up in his cupboard soon.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry gave the man a nod. He gave one back, and after that, he walked away, leaving Harry to his own devices.

Harry decided to explore the room a little, feeling attracted to the bookcases especially. He let his hand glide softly across the backs of the books, catching different titles. It was almost all about magical theory, history, politics and creatures, but he also saw some normal fiction books.

When Harry kneeled to touch the plush rug, it was even softer than what he had expected, and he could not help but let out a soft sound of contentment.

He went over to the windows, and realized he was quite high up. He could not recall going up any stairs, but he blamed that on lack of proper sleep and how surreal everything still felt.

To his surprise, Harry noticed he also had a balcony, which he immediately opened the doors out to so he could step out on it.

It was quite big, big enough for Harry to put some chairs put there and possibly bring out some blankets, pillows and a good book so he could sit there and look out over the beautiful view that met him.

The mansion, really, that was what it was, had a big courtyard which at one point turned into a giant garden with different bushes, plants and trees Harry had never seen before.

Above him, the stars were shining brightly in a scatter around the moon. It was breathtaking, surely Harry must be dreaming.

Any second he would hear Vernon stomp down the stairs, so dust would get everywhere in his little cupboard. He would be told to get breakfast ready, and he would then proceed to get up, though his entire body would protest.

And life would move on. And nothing would change.

Yet there he was, still standing on a balcony, looking at the stars in a big mansion owned by his parents after a friend of theirs had treated his wounds.

Harry sighed and sat down, knowing he would not be able to fall asleep just yet with all these thoughts overflowing his head.

What wouldn't Damien say if he could see him right now? Another sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes. Damien… He really wish he was there. Damien would have been able to talk him down and make him sleep, just like always.

He would tell him that everything was changing but it was alright, that he deserved it. That, no matter what the Dursleys had said or done, it was not right and he should just take everything he got here in stride.

That yes, he, Harry James Potter, was actually allowed to feel happiness.

…

Somehow, Harry had actually managed to fall asleep. He thought he, at first, had been locked outside of the house by Dudley, because his entire body was stiff and cold and he could feel a wind grab and ruffle his clothes.

It had happened a couple of times before, and none of the Dursleys really cared enough about whether he slept outside or inside – no matter what kind of weather it was.

Yet it all came to him as he slowly woke up more and more, until he had to check whether he was right or not by opening his eyes and sitting up.

And sure enough; he had fallen asleep on the balcony in his parents' mansion.

Before he could get up and get inside, with the wish to bury himself in blankets, he heard the door to the room open.

"Harry?" an unrecognizable voice said, uncertainly. He heard footsteps come towards him, until the person stepped onto the balcony.

The person was a teenager, probably around his own age. He had blonde hair, grey or blueish eyes, and with his high cheekbones and muscular yet lean stature, Harry could not help but think _damn._

"Whatever are you doing out here? Do not tell me you were idiotic enough to sleep outside, it's bloody cold. Especially with no blanket," the teenager said, wrinkling his nose.

Harry was very confused about just how he was supposed to talk to this stranger. On one hand, it was a person his own age so he could talk rather rudely to him without it being overly impolite. Yet he did not dare raise his voice to anybody in this household just yet.

How would they react? What if he told his parents? What would they say? Or worse, what would they do?

"Right, you have no idea who I am. My name is Draco, Draco Malfoy. I am only a little older than you, and it was therefore deemed appropriate that I came to wake you up. Now, get up from there and go dress yourself. I will wait outside your room," the teenager, Draco, said before he walked away.

Never before had Harry felt so lost and hopeless. There were constantly new people around him and, though some were not the prime example of kindness, none had actually done anything to harm him.

If anything, they had done everything in their power not to and to save him from harm. Which he could not help but find funny, considering how he in his younger years so often had wished for someone to swoop in and save him.

Yet now, when he was basically of age and could do whatever the hell he wanted, his parents suddenly show up and tear apart everything he knew and thought was real.

Bloody hell, he did not even know if it was a curse or a blessing that he had gotten away from the Dursleys. Not only because it meant he had to get used to a whole other world, but also because he had absolutely no idea whether this place would be better.

Sure, they had all seemed kind and generous so far. But what did they expect from him in return? It did not make sense that his parents just summoned him with no ulterior motive.

He would not and could not believe it. It was just too unrealistic.

Sighing, Harry got up and went inside. The warmth hit him, and he could not help but shiver and wrap his arms around himself. Shuffling unsure on his feet, he went to the closet.

Upon opening it, Harry could not help but to be in awe. The closet, though Severus had seemed of the opinion there would only be little clothing in there for him, it held a lot more than Harry had ever owned.

There were two pairs of everything he would need; pajamas, shirts, t-shirts, sweaters, pants, shorts, socks; everything.

Harry merely shrugged of his t-shirt and grabbed a dark green sweater. It was soft and warm, and though it was quite big, he could not bring himself to care.

Leaving his ripped jeans on, Harry went to join this Draco. He could not help but wonder what would be in store for him that day.

…

No matter what Harry had imagined, it was definitely not sitting at a breakfast table, surrounded by so many people he had absolutely no idea who were.

Sure, he recognized them all from the day he had been summoned and he supposed he sort of knew his parents, Severus and Draco, but the rest were still a mystery to him. None of them had deemed it important to introduce themselves to him yet, and seeing how everybody were having conversations with each other, Harry did not feel inclined to ask.

Instead, he was pushing the food on his plate around with his fork, already feeling full by drinking his glass of juice and a piece of bread.

"I am pretty sure the food is edible if you tried to put it on your fork instead of around the fork," Draco whispered to him, in a snarky tone.

He had not noticed that other people at the table also sent him long looks, and instantly he blushed. Harry had not meant to play around with the food, at least he had not thought anybody would notice.

Normally, he would not even be allowed at the table. He was still so confused about everything, and with how little food he usually got, he really could not eat anymore.

Instead of answering Draco or starting to eat, Harry merely put down the fork and put his hands in his lap. Maybe they were testing whether he would eat too much? Vernon once did that.

He had given him a bulging plate of food, and asked him to eat. Harry had been very skeptical at first, yet when he had eaten a little and nothing had happened, he had started to really eat.

They had kept food from him since the day before, and he was a starving little kid.

Of course, nothing came for free, and definitely not food from the Dursleys. The vivid look of pure glee combined with hate that Vernon had directed towards him, was something he still remembered very clearly.

 _"_ _You really thought that we would let you eat? Just like that? You haven't finished half of the chores you were supposed to do today, and you think it is okay for you to eat?"_

Dudley had laughed. He always enjoyed watching Harry get in trouble, and that day he had also been the reason for his trouble. He had done everything he could for Harry not to finish his list of chores and obviously succeeded.

"Did you apply the salve this morning?" Severus said, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. Harry blanched. He had completely forgotten everything about the man giving him a salve.

He did not know whether the man was truly curious or if he was only trying to make small talk, but no matter what, Harry was pretty sure the man would not be pleased if his answer was 'no', even though that was the truth.

"Yes," Harry said, but by the narrowing of his eyes, he was pretty sure that Severus did not believe him. However, much to Harry's surprise, the man did not call him out on it. Instead, he merely continued eating his breakfast after giving him a small nod.

Was this all a joke? Were they all playing with him? Were they waiting for him to really put his guard down before they would punish him, especially for something as stupid as lying?

It was all so confusing, and Harry found himself wishing he was anywhere but there. Even his cupboard seemed a lot more attractive, at least he knew what to expect.

He had not been at this place for long, but he already longed for normality. Set rules he knew how to follow, and even if he messed up, he knew what would happen.

But this, all these people… he had no idea how they would react to anything. So far not one of them had raised their hand at him.

None had called him weak, a freak, stupid, liar or told him to do something helpful or given him a set of rules.

Absolute nothing. That was what he had to deal with. _Nothing._

Why had none of them deemed it a good idea to tell him how things worked here? Were they expecting him to mess up? Did they want him to mess up, so that they could punish him? Or, God save him, were there no rules?

Did such a place exist?

No, scratch that. He knew many people did not get treated like he did.

What he really wanted to know was… could such a place exist for him?

Was it possible that he had ended a place where no one really wished him any harm? Where he would never go without food and he would never miss anything?

Damien, where was Damien when Harry really needed him?

He would probably be the only person who could really explain everything to him in a way he somewhat understood. And even if he did not understand, it would be enough for him to just accept what was happening, at least for a while.

Would he even be able to see Damien again? Was he allowed to bring people over and leave the house as he pleased?

Would… would they judge Damien for being gay? Would they judge _himself_ for being gay? God knows how much hatred and disgust the Dursleys had thrown his way for hanging out with someone who was 'a fag'… would it be different here?

"It seems most of us have finished eating our breakfast. Now, Harry, I know everything must seem terribly confusing and weird, so we thought that maybe we could spend the day in our library, where everyone could introduce themselves?" his mother said, and once again Harry was snapped out of his chain of thoughts.

Harry had not noticed that everyone had finished eating and were now sitting silently looking at him.

"It may be rather overwhelming, so if you in any way do not feel up to it or feel uncomfortable through the day, you just say the word and we shall leave you alone with your thoughts," Severus added.

If _he_ felt uncomfortable?

Oh, bloody hell, was this a confusing circus he had ended up in. Why had they even asked him for his opinion?

"Sure," Harry ended up saying, because that felt like the right answer. Honestly, he was really not up for a full day of being social and talking to all these strangers, but he did not think it was something he could decline.

They were already here, were they not?

With an eternal sigh, Harry braced himself.

He could get through this.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am back with a new chapter! I do hope that this chapter is quite okay, as it felt a little rushed to me.**

 **It is only because I am quite eager for Harry to meet more people, and more people he will meet in the next chapter. I wonder who, hm?**

 **Votes for who Harry will end up with:**

 **Draco: 1**

 **Damien: 4**

 **Tom Riddle: 5**

"So, this is our library. We have more books stored away in our vaults in the bank, and some in the basement, but here are all the books which are safe to touch. Feel free to venture here whenever you feel like it," his mother said, as they entered the so-called library.

It was giant, probably about the same size as the small library they had near the Dursleys, where Harry had went quite a lot of times, no matter how lazy he seemed with school.

He just could not care less about grades, showing up and participating in class.

Harry had always preferred to read away and learn on his own, unless he had questions he wanted to have answered. Yet he despised the contest in class and how a grade could determine the future for a person.

He had also had the pleasure of having Vernon beating him to a pulp whenever he was better than Dudley at something, so Harry much preferred to silently do his things.

Wouldn't do to have a freak trying to be better than the normal people, people with a worth.

"I can show you where to start, if you wish, though my specialty would mainly be potions. It is the subject I teach," Severus said, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

Tilting his head in question, Severus started talking again. Harry quite liked that about the man; he seemed to just understand Harry.

"Potions is a very complicated subject in which you use different ingredients to make different potions and poisons. It is often used in ways medicine would be in the muggle world," he explained, and Harry nodded.

It sounded quite intriguing, but also much like the stupid fairy tales from children's books. It gave Harry the image of Severus standing in a cemetery, under the moonlight surrounded in fog as he enchanted something in Latin as he threw different gross things in a big cauldron.

The image made him want to laugh, but he kept it in, not wanting them to think him more insane than he was.

"I would not mind you helping me with finding some books, if it is no bother," Harry said, once he remembered he had to answer the man. He was actually being asked, and his opinion seemed to matter for some reason.

"Very well, perhaps Draco and Minerva can help too? Minerva is also a teacher, and Draco did not finish his school that long ago," Severus suggested.

Draco, the blonde bloke from earlier, casually nodded his head and started to go through the shelves.

Minerva, was apparently the elderly woman who had been standing to the side. She had her hair up in a bun, glasses and very sharp features. She stepped up to them, giving Harry a small smile.

"I teach transfiguration, and it widely seems to describe itself. It is the art of changing the properties of one object, and thereby turning it into another. It is also, however, the art of vanishing and creating objects," she explained in a crisp tone, and with a slightly Scottish accent, if Harry was correct.

She also went out to search the shelves, while Severus nodded for Harry to follow him. The rest seemed to find their own places on couches or also searching out some books, and it all just seemed so casual and familiar.

Except for Harry. He was standing out so vividly amongst the rest of them. He almost felt like an intruder, if not for the fact that they all seemed so welcoming.

He at least felt more welcome here, than he had ever felt at the Dursleys.

Following around Severus, as he grabbed various books and explained what they were about, Harry started to relax.

The man's baritone voice and straight way of talking made it easy for Harry to feel at ease, and at one point he had even ended up smiling, which Severus had seen but not pointed out.

Harry had feared that having people introduce themselves to him would mean a lot of socializing, but they had only stepped up to him whenever they had been of help, and when Harry had sat down in a chair with a book, he had been left unbothered.

That was, until his mother, Narcissa and Draco went over to him.

"Harry, do you mind if we sit here?" his mother asked, gesturing to the chairs situated around him. Shifting slightly in his seat, he shook his head. They all sat down, and none seemed to know what to say.

That was, until Draco spoke up.

"I have no idea what muggle fashion is like, but the fashion here is quite different, especially when it comes to our families because we have a lot of money. So, we thought it would be adequate for us to all go shopping one day, probably also for books and anything else you need or would like to get," he said.

Harry almost wanted to smile. The way he had said it, reminded him of the way Severus spoke, and he assumed that the two had spent a lot of time around each other.

"Is it… is it required of me to always wear wizarding clothes?" Harry finally mustered the courage to ask, biting his bottom lip. Though he did not own much clothes, and really only now had the clothes he had worn to here, he did quite like his rather rebellious _muggle clothes_.

"Oh no, we can go to the muggle world too, and then you can get whatever you would like from there too. You just need something which you can wear out in the wizarding world too, and, this might sound medieval, but we have a lot of galas and gatherings, so you will need some formal robes for that," his mother said, smiling brightly.

"Oh, I suppose… that makes sense. When… when would this be? That we will go out and buy whatever, I mean," Harry asked, feeling stupid about how often he stopped himself before asking a question.

None of anybody present had seemed mad at him for asking about anything, and they even wanted to spend money. On _him_ nonetheless.

"We can go whenever you feel up to it. If you wouldn't mind, however, I have to go and buy some new dresses myself for an upcoming event Monday, so two days from now. Would that be alright with you?" his mother inquired.

"Sure," Harry said.

Why they always asked if he would be 'okay with it' or if he 'wouldn't mind' he still could not understand. They had the power. They could ask him to do anything, and he would have to do it.

Yes, he was legally an adult who could take his own decisions, but he had nothing. He was in their house, their home, surrounded by all of their friends.

He was at their feet. Nothing he could really do. If they chose to do something to him, he would simply have to accept it.

He was no longer sure about whether he was the one who was crazy or if it were them.

…

Time seemed to pass by quickly.

He was never really left alone unless he was in his room and though he often wanted to spend the day alone in his room, someone always came to knock at his door in the morning and took him somewhere in the manor.

Even though it bothered him, for he had been far too used to spending time on his own, he could not find it in him to complain.

They had been so nice to him, so who was he to order them around?

Unless he had a joint in his hand, alcohol in his blood and a Damien to kiss, Harry rarely felt like being around a lot of people.

No way he could make himself explain that to his parents. They always looked at him as if he was send from God, and Harry wanted to do nothing but leave them in that belief.

Another side of him desperately wanted to break that image too, though. He wanted to burn it, tear it down, make them see that he was bad company.

He could never do anything right, he would soon fuck up something so badly that they would want to send him back to the Dursleys, fully knowing what they would do to him.

Because he deserved it, he did, he really did. How he had gone without any form of punishment these last few days, Harry had no idea. It was brutal to wait for the first strike, the first sign of anger towards him.

But maybe that was their way of torturing him. They made him wait, made him feel really safe before they struck.

He so badly wanted to scream at them sometimes. Like the day before, when his mother had taken him around in the garden.

He had expected to get instructions on how he was to take care of it, get to know what kind of labor he had to do to earn his fill.

He had not expected for his mother to talk about the different plants, how bright the weather was and how she could not wait to go buy him new stuff.

 _Why?_ Was what he wanted to yell. Where did this kindness come from? What did they expect in return? When would they take it all back?

His thoughts were repetitive and draining and bothersome, and he was left feeling so exhausted whenever he went to bed.

As if taunting him, he heard a knock on his door.

"Harry? I was told to come and fetch you. Your mother, Narcissa and Draco are gathered in the living room, and they all seem quite ready to go and acquire you some new clothes," Severus' baritone voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Severus. So far, he was the only person Harry was sure he could spend an entire day around, mainly because the man was quiet.

He was sarcastic and sardonic and sometimes even cruel in the way he spoke, but it was a level Harry could talk and he often found himself quite amused around him.

"I will be out soon," Harry said, hoping it would be loud enough for the man to hear. He wished to feel as though he was alone in his fort of darkness for some moments more, the more the merrier.

"I will see to it that they do not disturb you while you get ready," Severus answered, and Harry smiled. This was why the man was one he found himself gravitating to, whenever he could.

Harry was also very sure that he could not stay holed up in bed for much longer, there was after all only so much one man could do against three shopaholics.

Getting out of bed was the hardest part, and soon he found himself dressed and walking down towards the living room. He still sometimes found himself lost somewhere in the mansion, but Twinkle had been quite helpful in those moments.

"There you are, Harry, I was starting to fear you'd left me here with these vultures while you were finding a way to escape," Severus drawled, as soon as he entered the living room.

Harry snorted.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said. His mother and Narcissa merely giggled, but Draco crossed his arms.

"I am hurt, Sev, I thought I was you godson? Where is your understanding and love towards me? I'd never be a vulture, I would hate to get stained in anything as dirty as blood," he said, crossing his arms and puffing his chest.

Harry had not known the bloke for a lot of time, but he knew that was such a Draco thing for him to do. It reminded him of a show horse, with the way he was often swaying around and preening, making it known that he was not of a low standard.

It was not something Harry minded, not at all, he found it quite funny. The part he did mind, though, was that he was never sure whether the bloke was joking or being serious.

"My love you may have, but understanding the need to buy clothes just for the merit of doing it, I shall not show any understanding for, that is too much to ask of me," Severus said, a small smirk making its way to his lips.

Draco huffed.

"Well, if you are quite done, let's get going before you have scared Harry away from us," Lily said with a laugh, beckoning Harry to come over.

Only pausing shortly, Harry went over to her. _Severus is here, he will help you, it's your own mother, she won't hurt you, they haven't yet, don't worry, nothing to be afraid of._

"We're going to apparate to Diagon Ally, so all you have to do is grab my arm, okay? It may feel a little uncomfortable," his mother said with a soft smile, and Harry nodded.

Reaching forward to grab her arm, he was ready for her to flinch away from his touch, slap his hand away, call him a

"- _good for nothing freak, do not touch me with those filthy hands!"_

 _Slap. Slap. Slap. Pain. A little blood. No sound. Calm._

Yet she did not, not even when he actually grabbed her arm. She moved her hand to tighten his grip, and then they apparated.

…

Diagon Ally was everything and more than Harry had expected. Magic made everything so, well, magical. He found it hard to concentrate on one thing for very long, before his gaze drifted to something new.

"Come along, Harry, we can't have you getting lost," his mother said, carefully grabbing his arm and steering him with them.

They entered a store where they immediately were assaulted by a very ecstatic woman.

"Greetings, Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy. And am I to assume this is the Mr. Potter who has finally come back to our world?" the woman said, her eyes locked onto Harry.

"You are correct, madam Malkin. We are here to get him a wardrobe, so we need clothes for every occasion," his mother said, and Harry felt like fleeing back home at the glint in the woman's eyes.

"That is something we can have arranged," she said, and soon Harry had been measured and tried on so many different outfits, that he felt like sagging in relief when his mother finally took pity on him.

"Draco, maybe you could take Harry to Ollivanders and go and look at some books? Maybe grab some food? Then we'll continue to find some more clothes here," she said, and if Draco wanted to stay, he did not say so.

"Sure, come along, Harry, it was also due time for you to get a wand, can't believe that had escaped my mind completely," Draco said, motioning for Harry to follow him.

And so he did.

They entered a small store, which reminded Harry of the old rundown libraries you'd see in horror movies, but instead the place was filled with small boxes. Dust had settled on many of them, and though the store seemed tiny, the rows seemed endless.

If the place had creeped out Harry, the man did more so. He seemingly popped up out of nowhere, and his glassy eyes seemed to look straight through him.

"Mr. Potter, have you finally come to get a wand?" the man said, before Draco or himself could say anything.

Narrowing his eyes at the man who just knew who we was before even introducing himself, Harry crossed his arms across his chest and took a small step backwards.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter, and I know even more witches and wizards. Let's get straight to it," the man said, picking a box out and putting it on the table beside him.

"Come try it, Mr. Potter," he said, and, warily, Harry went to the table. In the box was a twig, or, to Harry it was nothing but a twig. He did not know what he had expected when they had said he would need a wand, but this was not it.

Not really sure what he was supposed to do, Harry grabbed the wand out of the box, and looked at the man.

"Give it a flick," he encouraged, and Harry did so. This sent several boxes from a row through the air, and Harry quickly put the wand down.

"Not that one, no, let's try another," the man mumbled, and so it went on. Wand after wand, and Harry was starting to feel slightly sorry for the state he would leave the store in.

The man, however, did not look as though he cared at all. He was only walking around while mumbling, bringing him wand upon wand.

"Perhaps, but… maybe," the man said, and then he disappeared. It took him longer to come back with this wand, enough for Harry to look at Draco, who seemed just as perplexed as he was.

When he reappeared, his steps seemed a lot slower and less eccentric than they had before. He carefully opened the box, and held out the wand for Harry to take.

When Harry took it, he instantly felt a warmth in his hand, spreading to the rest of his body. He did not have to flick it to know that this was the one, but he did anyway.

He felt powerful. Magic weaved around him in a display of light and fireworks. It was weird that such a small thing, could make him feel so assured and safe.

"Curious," the man said, when the light started to dissipate.

"You see, Mr. Potter, the Phoenix feather that is in the core of this wand, gave one other feather. The man who has that wand, was the one whose followers were the reason why you had to leave the wizarding world for so long," he continued, staring him straight into the eyes.

"Curious indeed," Harry mumbled.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:

Right, sorry for the long wait guys. Did not mean to let so much time pass by before posting the next chapter. I just shortly lost my inspiration, but it's back again.

The results for the voting on who Harry shall be paired with is as follows:

Damien: 5

Draco: 3

Tom: 9

Feel free to comment down below who you think he should end up with! I will let this be a "poll" for as long as I feel it is needed and until I'm pretty sure how I can incorporate it into the story.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Draco and Harry walked in silence for a while, and Harry was wondering if they were aiming for somewhere specific, or if Draco was just as lost about what to do now as he was.

"We could go grab something to eat before we go to the book store?" Draco suggested, and once again Harry was stunned he was asked.

 _Really,_ Harry thought, _for how long will I act like I've been severely abused and never shown any kindness in my life? Stop being such a baby._

"That sounds nice," Harry said, and so they kept walking, but with a set destination this time. Upon entering a place called The Leaky Cauldron, Draco was almost immediately seized by a girl who threw herself into his arms.

"Draco Malfoy! I haven't heard from you for the past two days! How could you not have told me you were coming to Diagon Alley today?" the girl said, as she detached herself from him to glare.

Another girl and two guys came up behind her, and either smirked or sighed at her theatrics.

"Maybe it wasn't really how I would've put it, but yeah, mate. Why haven't we been able to get in contact with you these last few days? We had been talking about a party, remember?" one of the guys – a tanned hottie, really – said, a small smile on his lips.

Draco glanced at Harry, and it seemed he was not quite sure how to answer, and wasn't that amazing. The guy had basically been chatting his ears off every time he was around the manor, and someone asked him a question and he went silent?

Unfortunately, his glance at Harry made them all realize he had not entered the place alone.

"And who might this be? Is he what has been distracting you the last few days?" the guy, who Harry had dubbed Tanned Hottie in his mind, said. He had a smirk on his lips, as he eyed Harry.

So that was how it was? Bloody hell, it had felt like years since Harry had last really been himself, openly talking back and flirting shamelessly. To be fair, he had been surrounded by adults or been in his room the last few days, so he could be excused.

Now was not the time to hold back, though.

Harry snorted, before he answered with a smirk.

"He wishes that was how it was, instead it has really been me who has been distracted from doing anything constructive by listening to his endless chatter," he said, and this seemed to loosen Draco up.

"Oi, since when did you actually talk, instead of saying 5-word sentences?" Draco said, in that voice where he made it sound as though he was holier than thou, and could not be at fault for anything.

"Since real company seemed to show up," Harry retorted, giving a just as appreciative glance at Tanned Hottie, who seemed to preen under his gaze.

"As if you could find better company than a Malfoy," Draco snorted, but he could not hold back his smile. He was dumbfounded. Was this really the Harry Potter who had been silent and glancing every way as if though his own shadow would attack him?

 _No matter,_ Draco thought. _When he finally gets out of his shell he is much more fun than I had anticipated._

"It appears there is, though I think nobody has really introduced themselves," Harry said and with those words, the two girls and guys seemed to also come back to life.

"Daphne Greengrass," the blonde girl, who had been but a quiet onlooker, said.

"Pansy Parkinson," the girl who had jumped Draco said.

"Theodore Nott," the quiet but seemingly also very smart bloke said.

Leaving just one, who smirked as their eyes met.

"Blaise Zabini," he said.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, and watched in amusement as their eyes widened, looking at Draco for affirmation, which was given with a small nod.

"My, the lost Potter heir shows up again with tattoos and a nice mouth on him? Color me impressed. Shall you ever need help with settling in, feel free to contact me anytime," Blaise said, getting an elbow in his side by Theodore.

"Rein in those hormones, will you? Getting jumped the moment you return to this place, by you nonetheless, seems rather terrifying. Will you both join us at our table?" Theodore inquired.

There was no questioning it, they both nodded.

…

"Wait, so you didn't know a thing about magic until three days ago?" Theodore asked. From the expression on his face, it seemed he took that as a personal offence.

"Yeah, bloody stupid way of letting me know of it too," Harry grumbled, as Draco laughed.

"Right, you were so pissed, you could barely stand up straight. How you managed to apparate away on your own, without having learned anything and without splinching yourself, I cannot fathom," Draco said, shaking his head.

"I was very pissed, and between us, also quite high. When I got back I was so sure that I had just been tripping or something," Harry said, and they laughed.

"But wait, you apparated? By yourself? And you knew nothing about magic?" Theodore inquired.

"Well, yeah? I've done it quite a lot, to be honest," and at their incredulous expression, Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"What? That's weird, or what? Next thing you tell me is that I'm not supposed to be able to do magic at all, without this twig of a wand," Harry joked, but none of them seemed to really find it funny, for their expressions were unwavering.

"Only Harry bloody Potter would be able to do something like wandless magic, and take it as a stroll in the park," Draco sighed.

"Oi, I take offense to that. Walking is way too straining," Harry said, and as they all started joking around again from there, Harry could not help but wonder.

Was he still a freak in this world? Was it not normal for people to do magic without saying something or waving around a twig?

It was also then he realized that he actually knew nothing about this world. They might have completely different customs. And what of their history? Society? Government?

He would have to find books on that when he got home.

"Maybe we should go and find our mothers, Harry, I suppose even they cannot spend so much time buying clothes," Draco said, nudging Harry in the side.

"Oh, right," Harry said. Honestly, he didn't feel like going back to the manor again. He wanted to take this lot with him to a muggle club and drink his brain out, maybe find a way to get Damien with them too.

God, Damien. He missed Damien.

"You know, maybe you should bring Harry with you next time I have a party. We could show him how a wizard party is," Blaise suggested, and Harry could not help but laugh.

"Oh, I'll tag along, as long as I can drag you all to muggle clubs at some point," he said.

"That sounds like a fair deal," Blaise answered with a smile.

"Oi, we are here too, you know? Now come, Harry, let's get you back to your mother before I will have to tell her I lost you to a beast," Draco drawled, and after sharing more comments, he and Harry finally walked out.

"So, you've actually got quite a mouth, huh?" Draco said, after silence had fallen upon them as they walked.

"You could say that. These last few days have just been weird, I feel like a small animal everybody fears stepping too close to. It makes me feel quite winded up too," Harry answered casually.

It felt odd to just blurt out what he felt, but he knew it would be a good idea for him to open up. At least to the people his age. Damien would have told him to do that too.

"I… don't think anybody thought about that. They just all wanted you to feel comfortable," Draco said, frowning.

"Which is why I have preferred Severus' company. He is very direct. Honestly, I just want to get out and drink myself silly, try and make everything a little more normal," Harry sighed, slowly regretting talking so freely.

Maybe Draco wouldn't really understand him. Or if he did, would he use it against him? No, Damien said he should stop being so suspicious of everyone. Motives aren't always needed to do something, and if so, motives can also be good.

"Yes, I've heard quite a lot about you spending time with Severus rather than your mother or father," Draco answered, chuckling slightly.

"Oh? From who? Did they… did they complain?" Harry asked, biting his bottom lip. Maybe he had been rather selfish, spending all his time with Severus instead of trying to talk to his parents.

"Not complaining, they understand you haven't been used to having parents or parental figures in your life, it's just… your father and Severus are not the best of friends, so I think your father feels a childish jealousy when he sees you with Severus instead of him," Draco explained.

"I see. That does make sense," Harry mumbled.

That really did make sense. Whenever Harry would ask Severus about his parents, Severus would only talk about his mother, and say very few words about his father.

"Oh, hello mother, did you succeed in buying the entire store?" Draco said, and Harry noticed that they had somehow gotten all the way back to the clothing store.

"Don't be silly, Draco. Did you have fun?" Narcissa asked, looking inquiringly at Harry rather than her son.

"Yes, I quite enjoyed my time spent in his company. We also met some of his friends," Harry said, making her look at Draco.

"We met Pansy, Theo, Daphne and Blaise when we went to find something to eat. Blaise also wanted me to bring Harry along the next time he holds a party, so don't look at me as if I've done something horribly wrong. It went fine, ask this brat yourself," Draco scowled, when his mother looked sternly at him.

"Really, Narcissa, I enjoyed myself. And I quite like Draco's friends," Harry said, hoping he had said it in an innocent way. Draco's snort did not help, however.

"I swear, mother, he would have been in Slytherin if he had gone to Hogwarts," Draco snickered, clearly surprising Narcissa and also drawing Lily into the conversation.

 _Slytherin. Hogwarts house. Characteristics: cunning, ambitions, resourcefulness, self-preservation, cleverness. Animal: snake. Colors: silver and green. Head of house: Severus Snape._

That was what Harry could remember about Slytherin from what he had read while hiding around the library, but he could not understand why that seemed interesting to both Narcissa and his mother.

"Really? I suppose that really would challenge your father's views nicely," his mother said, smiling.

"Is there something wrong with Slytherin? In father's views, I mean," Harry asked, and his mother chuckled.

"Not quite, except he had a stupid feud with Severus, and he was a Slytherin. Both your father and I were in Gryffindor," she said.

 _So, this feud between my father and Severus has been going on for quite a while. For it to be still here, it must be more than just some childish grudge,_ Harry thought, but quickly let it go. It was not something for him to put his nose into.

"I see," Harry said, thinking to himself. If he remembered correctly, there was something more about a feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin too, but he would have to read up on that later to be absolutely sure.

"We got you a whole new wardrobe now, though, and it will probably be there for us when we get home. I do hope you will like it, Harry," his mother said, wringing her hands.

"I am sure I will. Now, you mentioned something about galas, this weekend?" Harry inquired, wanting to indulge her and somehow give something back to her. He felt as if he had completely forgotten about the fact that he had parents and that they were people he could actually talk to.

It was such a foreign concept, but he did not want his own stupidity and timidity to get in the way of him getting a good relationship with them. _Maybe they really won't punish me in any way like the Dursleys did. They haven't so far, I think it is okay to at least try to act normally around them._

"Oh, yes! That's right, I know it's very political and it may not interest you much but we will go to an important gala this Friday, and I was hoping you would be willing to go to it. We bought you plenty of different robes, too, in case you want to," she said, smiling brightly.

"I think I would be okay with that. I was… I was wondering whether I could go to the muggle world before then, to visit Damien?" Harry asked, biting his bottom lip. Maybe he shouldn't have asked in a public setting, where she would feel inclined to answer yes.

"Of course you can, as long as we get to meet this 'Damien'. Perhaps he could come to the manor for some days?" his mother said, and Harry really wanted to draw a breath of relief but stopped himself from doing so.

He would not look as if he rudely thought of their company as nothing.

"Thank you," he said, instead, letting a small smile grace his lips.

"That's nothing to be thankful for, sweetie, now come, let us go home. Then we can discuss the details a little more," Lily said, and with that they returned to the manor.

…

"So, this is where you decided to hide after your adventurous day to Diagon Alley?" a very familiar voice drawled from beside Harry.

Startled, Harry looked up, and sighed a sigh of relief as soon as his eyes fell upon Severus.

Upon returning to the manor, Harry had had his daily fill of people and talking so he had found shelter in the library with a book explaining the history and politics of the wizarding world.

"I am quite sure you understand my predicament after a whole day out with Narcissa, mother and Draco?" Harry drawled back lazily, smiling as Severus laughed shortly as he sat down in the chair next to him.

"I am actually very sure I understand your situation. Draco sounded as though you had had a _very_ interesting day," Severus said casually, but Harry knew he was fishing for details. Draco had probably told him all about how very Slytherin he was.

"Oh? Depends on what part you choose to focus on. Getting measured for clothes was not the biggest highlight of my day that's for sure," he replied, smirking when Severus rolled his eyes.

"Brat. Sometimes you're too good at circling around topics. Now, you met some of Draco's friends and apparently you sprang out as a beautiful Slytherin," Severus said, making Harry snort.

"Beautiful and beautiful… well, I think people here often forget that amongst other things I'm also just your average teenager and I do know how to socialize with other people my age when I need to or feel like it," Harry said, also rolling his eyes.

Severus hummed in understanding.

"I unfortunately know what you mean. People easily forget what person lies behind your upbringing, they tend to focus only on what they think is important."

"I did not come here to reminisce though, dinner is ready so I was sent to fetch you," Severus said, getting up from his chair. Harry put down the book he was reading and stood up to follow Severus.

"I suppose my father did not look very happy that you had the pleasure of doing that," Harry mumbled, but Severus heard him.

"What did you hear about our relationship?" he asked, startling Harry once again.

"Not much, really, I just deduced it off of what I have been told and well… it is really not that subtle when you never talk about him," Harry explained, looking anywhere but at the man as they walked.

"No matter what, I want to assure you that your father only wants you to feel comfortable and if that is not with him right now he is willing for me to be there instead. But no, he was not very happy," Severus answered, chuckling.

The chuckle seemed so genuine and childish that Harry could not help but chuckle at him, and that was how they entered the dining room.

"I swear you do magic on him, why is he actually laughing? You never laugh or smile that much in my company, I feel hurt," Draco said, as Severus and Harry took their places around the table.

"I fear that may all be up to Severus' preferences when it comes to the quality of the person he wants to talk to and not magic, however weird that may seem to you," Harry answered casually, as he started piling food onto his plate.

Severus snorted and that was when the meaning behind his sentence seemed to go through.

"I swear to Merlin, you should've stayed quiet, I have heard nothing but sassy remarks from you today," Draco complained.

"Are you complaining about my boy? Why, he's just an angel," Lily jumped in, looking towards Harry and Severus.

"Really? Well you sure didn't see him throwing eyes at a certain friend of mine or ensnarl them all around his little finger, jeez. Should I just go home?" Draco said dramatically, making Lily laugh along with James and the Malfoys.

"Now, you talked about a Damien earlier, Harry?" Lily asked, when silence had fallen upon the table.

"Uh, yeah. He's what you call a muggle, I believe. No magic at all to find in that kid that's for sure. He's a really good friend," Harry answered, suddenly missing Damien's presence a lot.

"Maybe we could go collect him tomorrow? And have him here for a while then? Perhaps, if he wants to and is allowed to, he can come with us to the gala?" Lily proposed, making Harry smile brightly and nod.

"I would really like that," he said.

"Then it's a deal."


	6. Short comment and update for y'all

**Hello!**

 **So, this is not a chapter, but I am working on the next one, not sure when it will be up, but I hope you aren't getting too impatient.**

 **I just want to comment on something a few people have pointed out, which is the fact that Harry has an odd reaction to the fact his parents abandoned him and that he seems fine with them just showing up again.**

 **The anger will come! For sure, but as of right now, he is confused, trying to figure out what this entirely new world he's been thrown into is and kind of just going with the flow, because it is easier to just let things be than voice it out loud.**

 **He will also challenge their authority later for sure, test them and see where they stand with everything.**

 **He's grown up with the belief that he's worthless and that he is nothing and nobody wants him, he isn't used to thinking about himself as something precious who should have been taken care of, even if he knows it is wrong what has happened to him.**

 **Right now, he is still just trying to work himself through all this new information, and the fact he is leaning towards Snape with a lot of things is also important – he isn't seeking out his parents, he does not trust them yet.**

 **In the next few chapters Damien will be there, and he will make Harry start thinking and talking about this topic. It's only been a few days in the fanfiction, not much has happened yet, so I'm sorry if he seems vague and oddly accepting of the things thrown at him right now but know that it will change.**

 **People take time to go through things in their head, reactions come later sometimes. Harry is one of those.**

 **As for those who are still on track with this fanfiction, I hope you'll stay to see him grow, go through phases and really find himself.**

 **Also, thank you to everybody commenting, whether it be critique or compliments. I read it all and take it with me, I just felt like this had been pointed out enough, and since this story has barely started, I'm sad that people don't want to see him grow.**

 **I hope I can make him a lot more interesting and that I'll sate the thirst for Harry getting angry and hating his parents a little at some point, but for now, confused and trying to find his own worth Harry is in action.**

 **Sorry for the long note!**

 **Hope you're all enjoying your day, where ever you are 3**

(also, harry will also meet other people in the world who will make him question his fate more, sooooo, look forward to it~)


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